


What the dark brings us

by kameo_chan



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kameo_chan/pseuds/kameo_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night brings comfort and refuge to those who seek it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the dark brings us

It's completely dark out and either very late at night or very early in the morning when Kurogane hears the screen door to his room open. He opens his eyes, turns his head and stares at the figure approaching him.

Fai's footfalls are feather-light on the tatami, and Kurogane has to strain his ears to even hear him. He can't make out much more of the mage than vague shadows and subtle hints of outline. And for all that his night vision is superb, he can't see the other man's face, even when the mage kneels beside his futon and smoothes out his light yukata as though it's the most natural thing in the world to be doing at this hour. 

Kurogane waits, breath bated, because he knows that Fai is building up the courage to speak. If he disturbs him now, if he breaks the silence first, then the moment will pass and whatever this frail, fragile thing is that has come to lie so heavily between them the past few months, will shatter beyond repair. 

Fai is silent for a long time; long enough for Kurogane's exhaustion to try and claim him again and he starts nodding off. He is taken by surprise though and startled awake when the mage finally does speak. 

“You didn't have to,” he says, voice reproachful. Kurogane notes humourlessly that his tone had been much more pleasant when Tomoyo-hime had been present. “You shouldn't have had to...” 

Instinctively, Kurogane reaches for the arm that is no longer there, and almost immediately regrets it. Fai draws in a breath that is more hiss than air and Kurogane silently curses himself for several kinds of fool. Of course Fai's eyesight has become sharper and gained a wider spectrum, and not for the first time does Kurogane regret his decision to turn the mage. Not out of frustration, but rather because it seems as though Fai's enhanced senses only seem to cause him that much more  
despair. 

“You shouldn't have!” Fai reiterates fiercely, hand reaching out to Kurogane and pausing midway. Kurogane levels him a look he knows Fai can read perfectly even in this moonless dark. It says, quite clearly and without the need for words: Stop being an idiot. 

“It was my choice,” he says simply, letting go of the empty sleeve of his yukata and taking the hand that had been left hovering mid-air. And then he yanks with enough force to topple Fai and spill his slender form on top of his own prone one. Fai curses and struggles, but Kurogane holds him, content in the knowledge that even being a vampire, the mage cannot hope to match him in brute strength.

Soon enough the struggling ceases, and the mage collapses onto his chest in a boneless heap. “Let go,” Fai breathes, but there is no real heat behind the words. “Let me go.”

“No.” Kurogane knows that what they're talking about now has nothing to do with the hand still clamped around Fai's wrist. “I can't,” he says, fingers tightening. “I won't,” he whispers, slackening his grip and trailing his hand upwards along a slender arm. 

“Why?” the mage asks, and his voice is so raw with emotion that Kurogane wonders at the fact that he's still able to speak at all. “Why me?” 

“Because...” Kurogane struggles for the words, hunts for them the same way he hunts monsters, but they refuse to come, and so instead he finishes lamely, “Just because.” 

Fai looks up at him then, and for the first time, Kurogane can make out his features, and what he sees nearly takes his breath away. Fai is etched in shades of grey and black and white, and save for the blue of his eye, he seems like a drawing come to life, a piece of art that has escaped the confines of its charcoal-and-parchment world. 

“I wish,” Kurogane begins, but again the words stick in his throat and die on his tongue. He wants to say: _I wish you could see yourself as I see you_. He wishes he could say: _I did what I had to do to keep you by my side_. But he can't, and so he simply says, “I wish things weren't so damn complicated all the time.” 

Fai gives him another piercing look before chuckling softly. “If they weren't complicated, you and I would never have met. Hitsuzen, remember?” 

Kurogane scoffs at that and Fai laughs again, a little more easily this time. The silence that setttles afterwards isn't comfortable, but neither is it uncomfortable, and Kurogane thinks that he's just fine with that. He's almost asleep again when the mage shifts and gets to his feet and Kurogane allows his hand to fall away, but not before brushing against a delicate wrist and slender fingers. 

“Good night, Kuro-sama,” Fai murmurs as he leaves. Kurogane waits until he hears the screen door close again, before turning on his right side and settling in. 

“Good night, Fai,” he whispers to the night, and closes his eyes.


End file.
